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<title>Upon The Excelsior by jake9039</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23078887">Upon The Excelsior</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jake9039/pseuds/jake9039'>jake9039</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:35:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23078887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jake9039/pseuds/jake9039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ensign Jameson, an engineer on the Excelsior, finds himself in a situation far larger than he thought he would see.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Upon The Excelsior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>First, it was fire, then a rush of wind, as the stars enveloped his vision, and he was sucked into the vacuum of space by a hole, blasted into the hull next to him, as the corvette rapidly shrank off into the distance. Within seconds, it was nothing but another speck in the vast void of space. A squad of fighters, angular, yet aerodynamic, passes by him, and a pursuing squad, bulbous, and alien rush past him, until the last fighter of the left side of the wing smashes into him, destroying him completely.</p><p>"Ensign Jameson. The alarm you instructed me to set has gone off. Ensign Jameson."<br/>
The Ensign in question opens his eyes groggily and sits upright in front of his face, sits another one, the small, intense green squares composing a large, neutral face, with beams of light tracing back from each pixel to a dome-shaped projector.<br/>
"Spase, what time is it?" The ensign requested, as he tiredly got out of the clutches of the trap known as his bed.<br/>
The Projection responded, with a simple, yet informative "it is Oh-Five-Twelve, local ship time, Ensign Jameson. At your usual preparation rate, you will be approximately five point seven minutes late for your morning briefing, which is well within the acceptable standards set by the captain."<br/>
The ensign's eyes snapped wide open at the mention of being late for the morning briefing, and he ran past the dresser and floor to ceiling mirror on his wall, into one of the only two doors in the room, as he shouted at the floating head to prep the shower for him. Nearly 3 minutes later, The ensign comes back through said doorway, dressed in a long-sleeved one-piece dark grey uniform, with green accents to it, with black dress shoes shined enough to reflect the light of the holographic floating head.<br/>
"Spase, how do I look?" the ensign enquired, stopping for just a moment in front of the mirror on his way out of the room.<br/>
"you have a Seventy-three point six percent chance of passing the Officer's uniform inspection," Informed the AI, its impartial tone compelling the ensign to produce a brief flash of worry on his face, before he fixes his cuffs and starts a light jog out the door.</p><p>When ensign Jameson exits his room, he finds himself in a hallway, the walls, and floor grey, and several different lines with different colors for different destinations laid out on the floor, however, he doesn't pay attention to these, as he jogs past a couple of groups of people, of various races, ethnicities, and genders, in various variations of the same uniform he is wearing. He ends up standing on the bridge of the starship he is on, staring into the great expanse of space, before he turns left, to a female, with dyed green hair, and in a similar uniform to his, but hers is white, with a higher ranking insignia on her left arm. She turns from a holographic projection of the ship, to address him with scorn.<br/>
"Jameson. You're late, and your outfit is messy. I would usually overlook this, but we have to have all hands on deck right now."<br/>
"How come?" replied the ensign. "Have we encountered pirates?"<br/>
The officer shakes her head "worse. The praetor class battlecruiser <i>eagles nest</i> will be entering the system shortly, and we will be entering formation alongside it."<br/>
Jameson looked shocked, and even a little bit worried."A praetor class? They typically don't exactly order those things on patrol routes like we are on. Are we changing objectives?"<br/>
The officer provides a direct reply. "No, we are continuing to patrol. However, I nevertheless require the ship to be in tip-top shape so they don't perceive us as slackers. I require you in sectors B and C, understood?"<br/>
"Affirmative ma'am" the ensign replied readily.<br/>
"Get to it then. You are dismissed." the officer instructs him, and he runs off to complete his task.</p>
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